“What?” That pout might actually be genuine. “What do you mean, leave? I don’t want to leave.”
“I’m just saying, you can do whatever you want.”
“I want to be with you. That’s why I came to your hotel. I didn’t come here to be alone.” She rubbed his chest with her hands, acting again. “How long will you be gone?”
“I don’t know. Probably a few days.”
She dropped her hands and her mouth dropped open—more drama. No wonder she went through so many men. Probably none of them felt as though she saw them as themselves, only another actor in the scene of life.
“What am I supposed to do?”
“I don’t know. Maybe go see your ex.” He already knew they were talking to each other. He’d seen a few of their text messages on her phone. Deangelo Calabrese was another guy who acted his way through life. He should have known better than to date the ex-girlfriend of Autumn’s ex-boyfriend. Geez, just thinking that gave him a headache. Autumn’s ex-boyfriend’s ex-girlfriend...
Autumn was living happy as could be in Lander, Wyoming, with her black ops husband and newborn baby. She’d gotten away from the press by getting away from people like Calabrese. Macon should follow suit and do the same with this bubblehead.
“Why would I do that?” she finally asked, no doubt anxious that he was onto her.
“Haven’t you been seeing each other?”
“Wh...? No. I mean...we’re friends, that’s all.”
Friends with benefits? He didn’t ask. He didn’t care.
Suddenly she noticed what he was wearing. “Why are you in jeans?”
“I always wear jeans when I’m off the set.”
“Oh.” She appeared perplexed for a second.
It struck him then. He didn’t want to see her anymore. He’d asked her to meet him here with the intent of sleeping with her, but now it wasn’t important. “Maybe it’s best if you left, Keisha.”
She looked perplexed. “Until you get back?”
“No. I mean leave. And don’t come back. I think I’m done with this.” He knew he sounded like a jerk, but she wasn’t exactly a pillar of morality. She was seeing her ex again, and if he cared about her at all that would have bothered him. The fact that it didn’t told him it was time for them to part ways.
After blinking in bewilderment, she grew angry. “Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “You decide we’re finished?”
“You would have come to the same conclusion when you were finished acting this out.”
“Acting...” Her brow creased. “I’m not acting.”
Maybe not now...
“You’re a nice girl, Keisha. It’s just not working out for us.”
“Oh.” She acted out her disappointment, which may or may not be real disappointment. “A-all right.” She began going about the room picking up her things and depositing them into her suitcase with furtive glances his way.
No wonder she’d won one of the most prestigious awards in Hollywood.
Turning, he left without another word. Down in the lobby, he met up with his security detail. The lead guard spoke into his radio, getting his driver ready.
Outside, the press was hungrier than usual.
“Have you heard from your sister, Macon?”
“Will your film be delayed because of this?”
“Where’s Keisha? Why isn’t she with you?”
“Back off,” his lead guard, Warley, said, sticking his hand up while two more guards plowed a path for him to the black Escalade waiting for him, door open with another guard standing there.
Macon climbed in the back, looking out at the crowd of cameras and nameless faces of the men and women behind them. While this came with fame and he liked the attention sometimes, now was inappropriate.
“Where to, Mr. Ivy?” the driver asked after Warley sat in the front and another guard sat in the back with Macon.
Macon told him the Denver address.
The driver began to set out, but looked into the rearview mirror in question. “That’s a rough neighborhood. Are you sure you have the right address?”
“It’s the right address.” Macon didn’t look up from checking his email and text messages, but he caught Warley’s turn of head.
“Would you mind filling us in on this excursion?” Warley asked.
“Just an old friend I need to talk to for a bit.” He’d called Darnell Robbins yesterday and arranged to meet today.
“You have a friend in a rough neighborhood?” Warley asked.
It was a piece of his life he rarely talked about, and wouldn’t now, with his security detail.
“Mr. Ivy?” Warley queried.
Macon lifted his eyes, a clear warning.
“We can’t protect you if you keep us in the dark.”
“You won’t have to protect me where we’re going.” He almost scoffed. If anything, he’d protect them.
Macon ignored his frequent looks. When the driver pulled to a stop in front of a brick apartment building with clothes hanging out on lines in front of some of the upper windows, Macon saw several African-Americans in groups, mostly male. Some sat on front steps, some played basketball in the enclosed court across the street. They’d stopped to take in the Escalade that had appeared.
“You wait here,” Macon said to Warley, and then opened the door.
Darnell stood with a group of black men in front of the apartment building. He smiled as Macon approached, shaking his hand and giving him a hard pat.
“Hey, man. I don’t have to ask how you been. Big-time actor, huh? I couldn’t believe it when I started hearing you were in some hit movies. Whatcha doin’ down here, dirtying yourself with us homeys?”
“Hey, Darnell. Thanks for agreeing to meet me. It’s been a long time.”
“You got my attention, dude. What’s all this about Damen Ricchetti?”
“That’s what I was hoping you could tell me.” He glanced around at all the faces still observing the exchange.
“Ricchetti, huh?” Darnell shook his head as though in awe. Then he looked back at the four other men behind him, who nodded in response, agreeing in recognition and mumbling among each other.
“Big-time drug dealer,” Darnell said. “Chased out the other dude who took rank around those parts.”
“He doesn’t sell here?”
Darnell laughed. “Hell no. A white boy like him? Naw, man, he stays out of my neighborhood. He ain’t like you. Catch my meaning, friend?”
“Yeah.” What he meant was Damen Ricchetti wasn’t trusted here.
“Did you hear that he was hospitalized?” Macon asked.
“Yeah, man. You know he has a twin brother, don’t you?”
“No.”
“Demarco Ricchetti. Runs an antique auction house uptown. Complete opposite of his brother.”
Darnell knew a little about everyone. “What about Tony Bartoszewicz?”
Darnell made a face. “Never heard of him.”
Maybe Tony wasn’t into drugs. Maybe it was something else. “Thanks, Darnell.”
“You want me to look into this Bartoszewicz dude?”
“Sure. Yeah. That’d be great.” Macon shook his hand. “Good to see you again.”
“Likewise, my man. I’ll be in touch.”
Macon turned and headed back to the Escalade, seeing Warley watching in amazement. He said nothing as Macon got back into the vehicle. “Julio’s Mexican Cantina, please.”
“The media’s going to be crawling all over that place,” Warley protested.
“They’re going to be crawling everywhere I go.” Except here. Who would guess some of Macon’s closest friends were from the dark side of town? While he’d like to shed that part of his past, it was there an
d not going anywhere. What a coincidence that he and Korbin had that in common.
* * *
This time he needed his security guards to get into the restaurant. He had to sign a few autographs before Julio had them brought to the back and into the restaurant office, a cramped room that afforded Macon some privacy. Only he and Julio stood in there, and Macon shut the door on Warley’s unhappy face.
“I’m looking for my sister. She came here with Korbin Maguire. You and he are friends?”
“I am sorry, Mr. Ivy. I don’t know where they went.” He seemed stressed.
Macon cocked his head. “Did the cops fall for that?”
Julio’s anxious look said no, they hadn’t.
“Well, I don’t either. Tell me where my sister is. I don’t care about Maguire. I have orders from my mother to take her to our house in Evergreen.”
Still, Julio didn’t budge.
“Come on. My sister is in serious danger. She’s been shot at. Being with Maguire is dangerous for her. All I want is my sister.”
“She’ll be in danger if I tell you anything,” Julio finally said.
“Where is she? Give me something.”
Julio shook his head. “Better if you don’t know. Famous actor like you. What do you think will happen if you are seen going to her?”
Her whereabouts would be exposed. Damen could find her...or that other guy. He could put Savanna’s life in more danger. But could he stand by and do nothing?
Chapter 11
At 3:00 a.m. Savanna left the apartment building. She’d taken just enough cash from Korbin’s wallet to get to the hotel where she’d heard Macon was staying. It wasn’t difficult to find him with all of his recent fame.
Taking the elevator down to the lobby, she searched for any suspicious characters. Seeing none, she did the same in front of the building. Since getting a cab here might put Korbin at risk, she walked several blocks to a nearby hotel. A taxi was parked at the entrance. She went there and got in, telling him to take her to Macon’s hotel.
She had mixed feelings the entire way there. Relief. Depression. It was good and healthy for her to distance herself, but at the same time she couldn’t help wondering if they had the real thing. She hadn’t felt that powerfully making love with her fiancé or the lawyer. The swell of emotion was behind a wall she’d erected ever since deciding to leave.
Paying the driver, she entered the posh hotel, the nicest in Denver. At the front desk, she asked the attendant to ring Macon’s room. It amazed her that she’d gotten this far undetected.
“Tell him Savanna is here,” she instructed when the attendant got him to finally answer.
“He said to send you up.” The attendant gave her a card. “And to give you a key.”
“Thanks.” She took the card and rode the elevator to the top floor.
Warley waited outside the door. When he saw her, assured she was who she said she was, he went back to his room. Macon opened the door and took her into his arms.
“Savanna, thank God you’re here.” He took her inside. “I’ll get room service to brew some coffee.”
“No. Will you take me to Evergreen?” She needed seclusion. It would be her sanctuary. With any luck, no one would be there. She’d rather go home, but the security was better at the Evergreen mansion.
He put his hands on her shoulders and crouched a little, observing her closely. “What’s wrong? Are you all right?” Now he scanned her whole body. “Did he kidnap you like the news said? I didn’t think he did, but you look a wreck.”
“No. He didn’t. I don’t want to talk about it.” She moved away from him and deeper into the suite. The wall had crumbled some and she felt near tears. She clung to her strength. She’d gotten through this before, she could do it again. She should be good at this by now. Letting go and moving on.
He followed. “Okay. Where is he?”
“I left him.”
Moving around her, he angled his head to get another close look at her face. “Are you all right?”
She managed a nod. “I can’t talk about it. Will you take me to Evergreen?”
“Yeah. Sure. I’ll tell Warley to get everything ready.” He went to find his phone.
She listened to him give polite orders to his head of security.
Savanna lowered her head, besieged with the notion that she’d never see Korbin again. Or very likely never. She had to plan for that, anyway. Allowing herself to hope would not only be desperate, it would make her unhappy. Keep her unhappy—she was already unhappy. She sat on the sofa, fighting despair. What she and Korbin had was real. But she couldn’t have it. She’d lost again.
Macon came to her. “It’ll take about an hour.” He stood there watching her. “Do you need anything?”
She shook her head.
“Are you sure you’re all right?” He sat next to her and her wall fell away. Turning to him, she let go and cried.
* * *
Korbin woke to emptiness. He knew she was gone before he checked. He could feel it in the stillness and in his heart. Why had he let her go? Even his will to protect her had failed to prevent her from going. And now that she was gone, he felt a black hole gape inside him, light circling a deep, dark abyss. It was almost like losing his wife all over again. And that unsettled him. He struggled to picture her face. Only images of her bloody body after she was shot inundated him. But he could picture Savanna’s face as clearly as though she stood in the room. Why had he let her go? She’d dug the answer out of him.
Savanna was a fine woman. She’d make a fine companion for him. What was wrong with being with her? He did love his wife, and quite possibly always would—the memory of her. Maybe Savanna was right and he wasn’t ready to move on. He did feel a mess. Losing someone he loved in such a way would affect anyone like this, wouldn’t it? Life as usual wasn’t usual anymore. He was displaced, fighting to find his footing again, new footing. He couldn’t step where he’d once stepped because the ground had slid away from underneath him.
Meeting Savanna had reversed any progress he’d thought he’d made. And now, in the quiet loneliness of this strange apartment, he realized he hadn’t made any progress. No. He’d buried what had happened. Progress would have been if he’d told Damen to go straight to hell after her death. Progress would have been refusing to allow him to attend her funeral services. To even be his friend.
Anger hadn’t begun to settle in until after Damen had approached him with a new hacking job. It had taken him a year to get to that stage of grief. Disbelief had held him back for a long time. He hadn’t been able to believe Niya was dead. He’d lived in a gray, ghostly realm of existence. Beating himself up with memories of her, of their love, and of her violent death.
Now, as he lay there staring at the ceiling, he couldn’t think of her any other way than the day she was shot. Where once her beautiful face occupied his mind day and night, Savanna’s had taken her place at the throne of his admiration. It gave him a hollow, wretched feeling. How could he betray Niya so easily? He was torn between finding the new ground he needed to move forward with his life and remaining true to Niya. All he had to do was take that first step. And yet...he couldn’t. Because doing so would mean he was walking away from Niya, leaving her behind.
Getting out of bed, he wiped his face in distress and turned on the TV. He was about to get into the shower when he heard a report about Savanna and Macon leaving a posh downtown hotel. He saw her holding up her jacket to shield her face. Macon’s security personnel warded off the throng and one of them kept saying, “Sorry, no comment.”
As she got into the Escalade he caught a glimpse of her face. She looked beautiful but drawn. Not happy. He fancied that was because of him and not the media crushing down upon her, and then felt terrible for that. She had been right to go. He wasn’t ready to move on.
He wasn’t ready for her.
Seeing her ripped apart his sense of devotion for Niya and plunged him into mucky disorder. Where had these feelings come from? Why did they threaten him so? He felt cornered. Compelled to go after Savanna. Honor-bound not to.
After a shower that he spent mostly lost in thought, he dressed in the same outfit as yesterday. He had no idea what he’d do today. Would he take a chance and go after Savanna or would he fight for his innocence? Why was he still contemplating going after her?
He did have a responsibility to see to her protection. It didn’t matter that her father could see to that much easier than he could. He’d gotten her into trouble. He should get her out of it. But that wasn’t all of it. Maybe none of it. He wanted her. Plain and simple. Fair to her or not. He wanted her with a ferocity that astounded him.
Despite what his honor told him to do, he looked up the Ivy estate in Evergreen. It showed up on a map.
His cell rang.
“Korbin Maguire?”
“Yes.”
“I’m Tennessee Kidd from the FBI. Julio Chavis gave me your number.”
“Yes.” Korbin felt stiff all over with anticipation. What had the agent discovered about Tony?
“He told me a little about your situation, but not all of it. Not what’s all over the news.”
Korbin wilted. What agent would help him if he believed what the news said?
“I didn’t kill anyone,” he said.
“That’s what Julio said as well. He said you’re being crucified for something you didn’t do.”
Korbin stiffened again, waiting for the agent to go on. He’d either help him or not.
“Tony Bartoszewicz checks out. I ran every background I could. He’s got no arrests. His company is a bit questionable, but there’s nothing any cop would raise a brow at. You’re a better suspect than him, I’m afraid.”
Not the information he’d hoped for. “Why is his company questionable?”
“A janitorial service that doesn’t show much profit. Until recently. He’s showing a three hundred percent markup in revenue. Could be that it just took some time to get the business up and running.”
The Eligible Suspect Page 14
